


Pedal to the metal

by AllHailTheUnderDogs



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHailTheUnderDogs/pseuds/AllHailTheUnderDogs
Summary: Klaus takes a little driver's Ed course from his favourite brother.





	Pedal to the metal

**Author's Note:**

> A friend and I spent far too long writing Klaus trying to drive his siblings around in silly situations and instead of finishing chapters for my ongoing fics my dumbass brain wanted Kliego + driving lesson. So we have a lazy oneshot with a cheesy title for the hell of it :)

Klaus is fully aware that he’s slowly turning into the peppy romantic lead from one of the romcoms he and Ben used to sneak into late night screenings of. It’s the sort of butterfly induced nausea he used to mock other people for daring to experience, but now it’s his turn and he fucking revels in it.

Though Klaus’ memory is a little fuzzy in patches during those years, he’s pretty sure that none of the movies used to involve a knock off vigilante innocently sitting in their childhood kitchen until his - totally not needy - brother climbs into his lap.

“Do you ever put on underwear?” Diego huffs a laugh between wet kisses along the juncture of Klaus’ neck.

“I like the fresh air, it’s very freeing, you should try it sometime.” Klaus’ head falls back at the scrape of teeth along his collarbone. “You’re lucky I put anything on.”

Diego isn’t in any state to judge, if the fingers digging into Klaus’ hips are any indication, and he’s not stopping Klaus from rocking languidly against the hardening line under his sweatpants. It’s the perfect, lazy morning roll of hips and friction that Klaus has come to expect and he’s already annoyed at having woken up alone at such an early hour, and then having to clamber out of the warm cocoon of their bed to track down his brother. So the least Diego can do is shut up and put up.

Klaus is not in charge, in no way is he delusional enough to think that just because he’s curled on top of Diego like this, nails digging tightly into warm skin where Diego’s considerately forgotten to put on the shirt Klaus is now wearing over yesterdays skirt, that any of this means Klaus has control.

It’s relieving to let Diego’s fingers guide, push and pull him wherever he needs to go to be good. Their lives have been so intricately braided together that it’s _easy_ to curl himself into his brother and let Diego look after him.

“Do you mind” Five grouches as he flashes into the room.

“It’s a free country,” Diego settles back against his chair with a reluctance Klaus vehemently  echoes. He’s proud of his brother when those strong hands stay firm on his waist, that Diego’s long past the initial pretence of acting embarrassed in these instances.

Klaus refuses to climb off of Diego’s lap, it’s like with the bruises he was allowed to suck into the curve of Diego’s neck last night, he’s marking this space as his own. It’s like a dare to the world to try and come near this bitch, _this_ messed up vigilante is Klaus’. Not that he’s going to tell Diego of his possessive behaviour, at least not when he wants to be able to walk properly for the rest of the week.

Klaus also stays where he is, straddling those muscular thighs, because he doubts Diego wants the room at large to see just how hard he is under the many layers of Klaus’ skirt. So he’s good, and sweet, and has no fucking shame as he slides forward on the pretence of grabbing the herbal tea he’d brewed before mounting his favourite brother at the kitchen table. The shallow motion almost fucks him over more than Diego, friction sending goosebumps skittering over his skin, and Diego’s fingers squeeze a bruise into his waist in warning.

Five’s back’s to them as he roots around in one the cupboards for the pretentious packets of imported coffee the assassin lives off of. The lack of attention tempts Klaus, makes him want to see how much he can get away with, at least until his largest brother lopes in, and from the grimace on his face, Luther’s about as happy to see them as Klaus is that his family’s intruding in his business.

“Don’t ask,” Five disappears, then reappears crouching on the counter, because god forbid he climb up like a normal fifty-eight year old man child, “they have no shame.”

Luther, to his credit, only blinks at Klaus unwavering position atop Diego’s muscular thighs. “I don’t want to know. All I need is a lift.”

Powerful, hardy, durable Luther, felled by his own injured wrist.

Despite the varying excuses thrown around, Klaus personally thinks it has to do with their Number One making up for lost time with Allison, or more specifically the killer lingerie set she was flaunting in front of him last week. Fortunately Klaus knows all about such things, his friendship with his beautiful sisters was a wonderful thing, the contents of their gatherings kept close to his heart, and divulged in secret to Diego, because he’s weak like that.

“Yeah, well, I’m busy man.” Diego shifts underneath him and Klaus grins.

“Clearly,” Five drawls with a pointed look, subconsciously rapping a spoon against the knuckles of Luther’s so called injured hand as the big guy makes the mistake of reaching behind him for the teapot, “you seem terribly occupied.”

“I could drive you?” Klaus offers, if only to steer clear of what’s guaranteed to be hours of arguing and bartering between the pair.

“If I wanted to die then I would have stayed in the future.” Five dismisses as he grinds his coffee beans.

“Who said you were invited,” Klaus shifts in Diego’s lap, unintentionally this time, to get a better look at his brothers.

“I don’t think,” Luther starts, then pauses at Klaus’ bottom lip sticking out and tries to rephrase a more gentle let down, “I’d be happy for you to drive, but it’s not worth it if we get pulled over.”

“So you’re saying that if I had a licence we’d be good to go.”

“Precisely.” Luther smiles genially at him, and Klaus can tell Number One’s patting his own back at his handling of the situation. Bless him.

It makes Klaus feel almost guilty when he says, “I’ve got great news for you then, I’ve already got one.”

“Who gave _you_ a driving licence?” Five stares disbelievingly.

“Actually it should be, _who_ did you bribe into giving you one?” Luther’s also adopting such a hurtful expression.

“ _Actually_ ,” Ben’s suddenly reappears from wherever he goes to brood, summoned as if he can sense that there’s no _fucking_ chance of Klaus getting fucked in another one of their childhood sweet spots, “it should be who did you fuck into give you one?”

“Correctamundo Benny, why are you the only smart one in this family?”

Ben pretends to raise a top-hat as Five’s glare shifts into his killing scowl.

“Stop messing around Klaus.”

“I’ll have you all know that I’ve even got the card to prove it. Don’t believe me?” Klaus glances between them and sighs theatrically. “Fine, go and look for yourself.”

Five disappears before the last words out of his mouth, returning a few seconds later, brow furrowing, brandishing Klaus’ purse in the air, plastic card proudly poking out of the top.

“You can’t be serious, how did you manage to hold onto that-” Luther cuts off, there’s a weird embargo on any reference to Klaus’ more hedonistic years, and despite his best efforts all of his siblings take part in this futile attempt to gloss over the past.

“I’m offended brother, have a little faith in me.”

“You did the cinnamon challenge for fun, nobody should have faith in you.” Ben’s far too amused with the ‘criticise Klaus movement’ going on.

Five unintentionally plays into this. “Last week you tried to demonstrate how you could suck your own genitalia.”

“Why did you get it in the first place?” Luther interrupts before Klaus can protest his innocence.

“Well when you have a face of great beauty and youth then it’s hard to legally obtain certain substances, you catch my drift big guy.”

“Are you telling me that you took your driving test so you had ID for alcohol?” Luther somehow manages to appear more offended by that than anything else and it makes Klaus want to laugh.

“Maybe I was trying to get married,” Diego grumbles underneath him and Klaus is so close to patting his hair, weighing up whether the punishment would be worth the crime and decides it’s better to save it for a another time, “no it was alcohol, a shit ton of alcohol.”

“Can you actually drive a car?” Five’s far more pleasant once he’s placated by the mug cradled close to his chest.

“Of course.” Klaus doesn’t point out that Ben’s guess was pretty accurate. He understands the mechanics of driving, and there was the whole ice cream van debacle that Diego still refuses to talk about - which is bullshit considering the circumstances.

Five tilts Klaus’ driving licence one way, then the other, the holographic chip catching the light, undoubtedly examining for signs of forgery, and Klaus smiles smugly at thought that Five can look all damn day and he won’t find one.

Though all of his attitude vanishes when the little shit tucks the card into his shorts pocket, “Hey, what’re you doing?”

“Saving the general population from the carnage you’d inflict upon them.”

“You can’t do that,” Klaus knows he’s whining, “can he Diego?”

“Diego doesn’t get an opinion on this.”

“Why not?” Luther asks, and before Klaus can cheer his new ally on he realises there's genuine confusion on the big guys face.

Five looks at their so called leader with about as much patience as he did most things in life, “Take a look at them Number One.”

Klaus has far more important things to do today than deal with this, like take his previously attempted… _activities_ somewhere a lot more quiet. “I can drive just fine thank you very much,” even Diego hides a tight-lipped smile at that, “it’s just the spirits that distract me.”

“You’re not helping yourself.” Diego says.

“Traitor,” Klaus grouses and he definitely doesn’t sink into the soothing circles Diego’s thumbs trace over his hips.

Aside from the nauseous, borderline constipated, look Five fixes them, there’s a quiet pause until The Boy has to ruin it. “Okay, prove it.”

“Excuse you?”

“I’ll be your examiner, if you can actually drive to the legal standard set by the state then I’ll give it back.”

“That’s extortion.” Klaus pouts.

“I’ll take him out later.” Diego offers gallantly, in Klaus’ honest opinion.

“Not a chance, you have a clear bias.”

Diego doesn’t bother to defend his own integrity so it’s not a hill Klaus is going to camp out on, though he suspects if it were Luther making such a comment he might finally be moved so the two could engage in one of their never ending scraps.

“Do I get a choice in this?” Klaus tries to adopt a stern expression.

“Not if you want this back.” Like the child he claims not to be, Five dangles his licence between two tightly pinched fingers.

Now it’s not that Klaus needs the thing anymore, in fact he’s pretty sure Diego would buy him anything he wants should the occasion arise, but it’s the principle of the matter.

“You’ll fail me for the fun of it.” Klaus points out.

Luther chimes in “What if you go out with each of us separately?”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Five considers for a long moment before holding out a hand, “if you can pass both of our tests then I’ll give this back to you.”

Klaus like the dumbfuck he is takes the tiny devils hand and shakes it.

 

* * *

 

“So why are you really doing this?” Diego looks at him bemused.

“Because I have a point to make,” Klaus tries, and fails, to reach for the keys held firmly in Diego’s tight fisted grip, “and you’re the only one that can help.”

Diego doesn’t cave to the obvious play on his obsessive need to play the hero. “I’m going to need a lot better than that baby.” Which is just plain rude considering Klaus gave him time to get dressed, and only complained a _little_.

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Nothing new there.”

“Well then you can kiss that privilege goodbye.”

Diego’s grin tells Klaus that they both know that’s not going to happen.

“Fine,” He adopts a forlorn expression, adding in a pitiful sniff in for good measure, “if you want to let Luther and Five make me look stupid then I understand.”

“You’re shameless,” Diego shoves the keys into his hand and opens the drivers door, “absolutely fucking shameless.”

“And  _You’re_ the best, I promise I’m a quick learner.” He darts up to press a kiss to his brothers jaw, clambering into the front seat before Diego can change his mind.

Inside there’s only the overwhelming scent of Diego’s aftershave and old vinyl, tempered by Klaus’ perfume from the knitted shawl he’d left in here the last time they’d gone out. There’s a gentle buzzing, deep in his stomach at the thought that he even owns this space, and then Klaus realises that they’ve never fucked in Diego’s car. Which begs the question, why haven’t they fucked in here? Now _that’s_ positively shameful.

Diego drops into the seat next to him and Klaus turns to face him when the vigilante just sits there, unmoving, awkward and unsure, which Klaus doesn’t like the look of. Not when Diego’s the only chance he has at mastering this. “What’s first captain?”

“Just…” _Really fucking awkward_ “Show me what you can do.”

In another setting Klaus could _do_ a lot with that, but now he’s left to pull up faint memories of the last time he’d tried to do this.

“Prepare for the worst.” He warns.

“How bad could it be?”

Twenty minutes, and countless stalls later Klaus is pretty sure that his brother regrets ever agreeing to this.

Diego watches him, contemplative as he trails one of those delectably long fingers through the condensation gathering inside the car. It’s the perfect opportunity to joke about steaming up the backseats but he’s a little too focused on the whole messing up driving business, though it doesn’t stop the warmth trickling down his belly at the unwelcome image.

“Close your eyes.” Diego’s voice is soft, deceptively soft.

“I’m pretty sure that you’re meant to look at the road.” As if Klaus can keep the damn car running long enough to move.

“Don’t be a smartass and just do it.”

Klaus does, if only because he can’t disobey his brother.

He reflexively twitches when the seat dips as Diego shifts closer, stilling when a hot hand brushes along his arm and down in a barely there touch until it reaches Klaus’. “Breathe baby.” Diego says soothingly, fingers covering his and together they turn the ignition on, Klaus’ feet pressing on the brake and clutch, legs tensing as Diego’s breath fans over his shoulder as he places Klaus’ hand back on the stick.

Was it weird to find the engine humming, sending vibrations throbbing through the seat, a turn on? Odd that he’d never noticed it before. Though it could be the effect just being in Diego’s proximity had on him, and he really needs to focus.

“Well done, you’re doing so good,” Klaus can hear the smirk in his brothers voice as the bastard presses a kiss to his cheek, in the exact spot Klaus had done it to him, “leave it in first for me.”

Klaus can do that.

“Now slowly pull your foot off the clutch.”

This is where he keeps fucking up.

Klaus opens his eyes as he pulls his foot back, seeking out the gauge to let him know where to stop before he stalls. Again.

“Don’t cheat.” Diego admonishes, and Klaus turns to seem him far closer than he originally thought, his nose brushing Klaus’ cheek.

“How am I meant to do this with you so close,” there’s no question because Diego clearly has a plan and Klaus will do as he’s told, “fine, how am I meant to stop it from stalling if I don’t watch the needle?”

Diego smiles at him like a kind, patient parent to a naughty child, and it doesn’t surprise Klaus that he’s far too into it. “This is an old car baby, they can be really temperamental, you can’t just go by the gauge. So,” Diego lips brush his ear, “close your eyes and try again.”

He does as he’s told, foot slowly cautiously lifting from the pedal. “That’s it, slowly.” Diego whispers, like Klaus needs the distraction, as if the vigilante can read minds now his hand slips from Klaus’, gliding up his arm and back down to rest against his belly. “Listen for the dip in the engine,” fingers stroking back and forth, “You’ll feel it right before she gives out.”

Klaus’ got it, there’s none of the juddering from before and he’s almost clapping in victory when Diego’s hand slips under his shirt, trailing a scorching path across his skin, and Klaus jumps, knees jerking up at the contact. The car lurches forward and stalls with a pathetic sputtering noise, overshadowed by Diego’s disappointed sigh. “You were so close baby, you need to relax.”

That’s not fair, Klaus wants to complain, but he doesn’t because he knows what Diego wants from him, and Klaus wasn’t lying when he said he was a quick learner. So he resumes the same position for the countless time, and if he’s turns the key a little too harshly, engine roaring to life, Diego doesn’t chastise him for it, and Klaus is ready for the burning path across his abdomen when he pulls his foot back.

After a moment, when he feels that dip just like Diego told him, the vibrations of the car rattling him forward into Diego’s hand as it slides along the hem of his skirt.

“That’s it, now put your other foot on the gas,” Diego’s hand moves to Klaus’ thigh, “push, just enough to stop her from stalling.” Fingers squeeze his skin and Klaus is whimpering like this gentle tease is enough to undo him. Like he hasn’t done a lot worse, in a lot filthier places, and somehow he’s squirming like some innocent virgin under Diego’s touch.

Peeking out from under his lashes at his brother is a mistake, because it’s fucking humiliating, aside from those dark eyes fixating on where his palm lays on Klaus’ bare thigh, there’s no reaction.

“You’re not putting the pedal to the metal baby,” Klaus’ confusion must show, “don’t worry, the emergency brakes on, check if you don’t believe me.”

Of course he believes _anything_ Diego tells him, but it’s an opportunity that he can’t resist, taking another surreptitious peek at his brother, those broad shoulders touching Klaus’, hips angled towards him.

He waves his hand down from the wheel and fumbles around the gearshift for a moment, and Diego doesn’t catch onto him, still distracted by his thumb rubbing into Klaus’ inner thigh. His brother is undoubtedly in charge of him, there’s never any question there, but Diego’s never fucked about in a car like this and it clearly shows when he isn’t prepared for Klaus’ hand deftly shifting over and cupping what he knows is the deliciously large erection, hidden from him by those damn sweatpants. There’s a hiss in his ear as his hand _reflexively_ squeezes and he doesn’t have time to savour the reaction when Diego’s hand shoots up from his leg and grips his wrist in a painful hold, not moving it away but holding Klaus there as his brothers hips jerk upwards, grinding himself against Klaus’ palm.

“If that was anyone else I’d say it was an accident.” Diego growls in his ear and Klaus whimpers when Diego moves his hand back to the gearshift, wrapping his fingers around it before pumping once, twice, and teeth catch on the shell of his ear on the third stroke down.

Klaus is hot and hard and pitifully desperate so he risks yanking his hand free, burying it into that cropped hair he loves, and tugs none too gently to bring his brother closer. “What about proving Five wrong?” Diego murmurs, not angry, but not letting Klaus pull him into a kiss like he wants and his heads thumping down onto his brothers shoulder.

“I don’t care,” he pants wetly into Diego’s neck, car groaning as his foot almost slips, “just want you.”

Diego pats his head sympathetically and Klaus is so close to climbing back into his brothers lap where he belongs when a quiet _disappointing_ echoes through the car, and his eyes snap up to see that Diego _looks_ disappointed in him.

“W-what?” He stutters.

“Everyone’s going to see you fuck up tomorrow,” Diego should be the one with the acting career, Klaus knows that he’s not really in trouble, that Diego will stop the second he taps out, but it’s still hard not to cry when told how he’s failing so badly, “and it’s embarrassing that they’ll know my baby boys such a let down. Unless that’s what you want?”

It has his cock jumping, and Klaus shakes his head so fast that his vision blurs for a second, or it’s the tears gathering as Diego leans back, away from him like he’s really about to leave, “I can’t do it,” he sniffles, for real this time.

“You _don’t_ want to.”

Klaus’ holding the clutch through some unknown superpower, sweat soaking through Diego’s shirt, and it’s only that he’s sure his brother will leave him here alone in the car if he loses it that he’s still trying.

“Help me,” he pleads.

Something dark wells up behind normally soft brown eyes and Klaus is flushing and shivering as his spine cracks, and all he wants is to be able to melt and fall lax into Diego’s arms when he says “One more chance,” and Klaus won’t need another, because if he screws this up then he’s going to embarrass Diego, and he _can’t_ do that.

“Keep your hands on the wheel.” Diego growls, his nose brushing against Klaus’, lips ghosting along his chin and then a hand snakes under his skirt. But this time instead of lazily moving across his skin, Klaus feels his long fingers pushing the material up until it’s bunched around his waist, barely brushing his cock and it’s enough to have Klaus moaning, eyelids fluttering as his head falls back to rest against the seat.

“Concentrate baby.” Diego orders, flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin behind Klaus’ earlobe, and it’s the hesitation of those blessed fucking fingers as they start to draw back, leaving Klaus’ skin tingling from their loss, that has him picking his head back up. He can see the stark white outline of his knuckles jutting out as he grips the steering wheel with a death grip when Diego loosely strokes his cock.

“Good boy, now give her a little pressure, just to get her going.” Diego asks, like Klaus isn’t managing enough, like normally he isn’t allowed to fall into a hazy fugue, drifting until he’s carefully put back together again. This, _this _,__  is new and impossible and Klaus needs and fucking hates it in equal measure, but he’s not stopping, not even when Diego’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock, gathering precome and pumping him with a wicked twist of his wrist. Klaus jumps, foot stomping down hard on the gas, revving the engine into an awful roar.

Diego pulls away, “Not too much,” and how Klaus maintains an even pressure is beyond his understanding, he whimpers and shivers as Diego works him over in long slow strokes that shouldn’t do it for him, but _god_ it’s nearly enough.

If he closes his eyes then he’s lost in the sensation of Diego’s calloused grip, but if they’re open then all he can see is Diego’s free hand exposing his chest, rucking his own shirt up to scrape his fingernails over one of Klaus’ nipples and there’s no excusing the keening noise he lets out as Diego leans down and laves his tongue over Klaus’ nipple. The engine stutters.

“Don’t stall,” Diego’s head lifts as he grips Klaus’ jaw, yanking his head to the side until his neck muscles strain and it almost aches enough for him to tip over the edge, “you stall, you don’t get to come, think of this as positive reinforcement.” Klaus is pretty sure that Diego’s the worst thing to ever happen to him when his brother grins, resting his forehead against Klaus’.

“Please,” he breaks off around a moan.

“Not yet,” and Klaus wants to touch his brother so badly, needs something more than the steady relentless rhythm Diego’s deemed acceptable, “you’re doing so good for me baby.”

A white hot heat coils in his stomach at the praise, Diego’s fingers are sinfully tight around him and Klaus is holding this fucking car together with the same single focused drive that he used to deploy when scoring drugs. Only this time the stakes are far higher as every nerve ending in his body feels electric, hyper-focused on the drag of his brothers hand.

“Diego, I c-can’t.” He can feel Diego’s chest vibrate as he laughs, cruel and low, nails leaving decorative imprints along Klaus’ jaw, thumb swiping up to trace along his mouth and Klaus catches it with his teeth, biting down until he’s sure he should taste blood. There’s nothing but Diego’s laughter filling the space around his hitching gasps, and muscles Klaus didn’t even know he had, clench and tremble as he tries to keep the car ticking over.

Everything’s vibrating and shuddering and he can definitely taste blood on his tongue, when he finally hears the words he needs. “Come for me baby,” Diego bites a bruise into his neck and Klaus - because what else can he do but obey - unravels with a coarse and broken cry, painting his chest and Diego’s fist with his release.

The car lurches to a halt, not that Klaus notices as he slumps to the side, tilting subconsciously towards Diego’s warmth, and Diego catches him, like always. Taking the keys out of the ignition and tossing them somewhere on the dash before Klaus is manhandled in all of his loose limbed glory up and across the console until he’s _finally_ curled back into Diego’s body.

There’s murmured praises in his ear, fingers threading through his hair, smearing sticky fluid into the strands and Klaus’ bleary head wishes it was his brothers jizz marking him up but he’s too tired and Diego doesn’t ask anything more from him. Klaus just makes do with craning his neck to accept the flurry of kisses Diego presses to his sore lips.

 

 

 


End file.
